The Official Fanfiction University of CSI
by CSICo-ordinator
Summary: Vengeance can be sweet, but so can education and the CSI characters have decided it’s time to do some teaching about fanfic. Shipwars, mayhem, lusting, oh my! Welcome to OFUCSI.
1. Welcome to OFUCSI

The Official Fanfiction University of CSI

Disclaimer: Characters from CSI are borrowed and no ownership is claimed and no profit made.

Author's Note (Cam): This is based on the idea from 'The Official Fanfiction University of Middle-earth' and is very much written with permission. Seeing as Camilla is the author of that and also one of the authors of this, she has very kindly allowed herself to write this too.

Author's Note (PA): This is Princess Artemis, whom Miss Cam has kindly allowed to co-write this with her. Being American, I usually spell that way, but she doesn't, so the odd British spelling may slip by. Anyway, be nice to us and e-mail questions regarding the university to the address in our combined profile and use the review button for reviews if you're so inclined.

II

It was, she decided as she looked out over the airport, glorious to be her.

Just to think, she'd won this trip to Las Vegas for writing a fanfic. Not just any fanfic, of course – 'Bend It Like Grissom' was her proudest creation. It detailed how Grissom and Sara were forced to investigate a murder of a tantric-sex practicing couple and how they 'researched' it over and over and over and then they had triplets of love and bought a mansion in Las Vegas to forever be lovey-dovey – but she'd never thought CBS actually read them.

How glorious it _was_ to be wrong and to be her, Nina Moore, fanfic writer extraordinaire.

Come to think of it, it was slightly odd she'd won this prize in her name. After all, she did write under SG4EVA&EVA, and not her real name, but presumably, CBS had excellent researchers and had tracked down her real name. Yes, that had to be it.

"Miss Moore?"

Nina looked up to see a young woman walking towards her, looking bright and with a slightly worrying smile on her lips. She didn't quite look like Nina's image of a CBS employee, but then, she was probably just a secretary.

"I'm Miss Cam," the woman said, still smiling. "I'm your… liaison while you're with us. Just this way."

Nina followed, clutching her bag excitedly, trying to keep up with the brisk pace. "How did you guys find my fics?"

The woman smiled faintly. "Oh, believe me, we were just drawn to them instantly. By the way, what did give you that stunning idea to have Ecklie kidnap Sara and turn out to be a mass-murdering lunatic in the end?"

"Well, he is an asshole on the show," Nina replied. Didn't CBS people their own show?

"Ah yes. Quite."

Definitely not a viewer of the show, Nina decided. Ecklie's evilness was obvious, after all, just as obvious as Sara's destiny to father four little Grissom juniors. And one daughter named Nina, of course.

Outside, a parked Denali greeted her and she couldn't help a little squee. Same car as on the show! This was even better than she had imagined.

"So where are we going?" she asked, as the woman (Miss Sam? Miss Dam?) opened the door for her.

"Oh, we have you staying at the new OFUCSI building."

Odd name for a casino, Nina reflected, but perhaps it was the fashion these days to name things after what sounded like a cough coming up.

"And here's Archie with our other arrival today," the woman smiled, and Nina turned to see a girl her own age walking over with the actor who played one of those lab techs she never quite noticed, being busy drooling over Grissom and all.

"She won a trip too?"

"You could say that, Miss Moore," the woman replied. "I'm sure you two will get along. Miss Nina Moore, Miss Juliana Jacobs. Jump in now, girls."

"What did you win this trip for?" Nina asked after they had been driving for a while, feeling slightly annoyed she had to share her prize. No one had mentioned that.

"My great epic, 'The Bugman and the Lady of Lace'," Juliana replied, beaming slightly. "You?"

"Oh, 'Bend It Like Grissom'," Nina replied, trying to remember if she'd read this other fic. She thought she'd read every GSR story out there, but maybe she'd missed one. "So how did you have Grissom and Sara first do it?"

"What? Ew! I had Sara try to break them up, of course, but true love prevailed."

"What true love?"

"Grissom and Catherine, of course!"

Nina nearly lost her breath. An Enemy! A deluded Catherine and Grissom shipper! How could this be?

She gave the Enemy a hard look, who returned it.

"Oh my God, you're one of those Grissom and Sara shippers! He's old enough to be her dad! Ew, ew, ew!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Catherine is a troll!"

"Sara is a harpy!"

"I have to stop betting with Warrick on these things," the lab-tech-actor said sadly, and Nina was torn out of her hateful stare-other-shipper-into-submission-and-the-true-way to look up. "Seven times out of ten, they bicker like this."

"Your own fault for betting with a talented ex-gambler," the woman replied. "Don't you think he's looked into the odds?"

"Excuse me, did you say Warrick?" Nina asked. Something was odd here. They wouldn't call an actor by the name of the character he portrayed, would they?

The man merely smiled at her, as the car pulled sharply over. "Here we are."

Nina could have sworn the trip from the airport was supposed to take longer, but she got out anyway, seeing the sparkling sign of 'OFUCSI' flicker in color high above. It looked casino-like and all, but she still had an odd feeling as she went inside.

"The lab's at the back," the woman said casually, guiding them through the carpeted entrance hall, "but you will see that soon enough and have classes there, too."

"Classes?" Juliana asked, sounding as if the word was foreign to her. Nina gave her annoyed glare, since she had been about to do the same.

"Why yes. But Ecklie will explain it all. In here."

"Ecklie?" Nina muttered, but got no answer as she was pushed into a convention hall and saw hundreds of faces turned to look at her. And at the podium, Ecklie was throning, looking sour.

"Ah, I believe that is the last two," he said, giving Nina and Juliana both a hard glare until they slinked down on available seats. "Welcome students! I am Conrad Ecklie, and you will call me Mister Ecklie and nothing else or I will give you homework from here to eternity, which incidentally is as long as it would take me to play matchmaker for Miss Sidle and Doctor Grissom, or send them on a holiday to Kuala Lumpur because they've worked so hard, poor things."

He paused a moment, looking for a moment as though he were trying to cough up a hairball.

"Now, I'm sure you're all very confused about why you're here. You are in fact here because you've written fanfiction. About me, about my lab, and some very questionable activities that makes me wonder if you think crime solving to be about solving the mystery of what underwear we all wear rather than actual crimes. And quite frankly, I feel sick reading it, especially all that wanton naked Grissomness you people stick everywhere. So you're here to learn better."

"There is better than naked Grissom?" a girl whispered next to Nina, and Nina fought the urge to nod enthusiastically.

Ecklie smiled thinly. "Welcome, in fact, to the Official Fanfiction University of CSI, our glorious teaching facility. Our motto is 'Learning Through Pain' and trust me, we promise plenty of both. We have enrollment papers for you all to fill out, you will all be given a room and a roommate, and tomorrow, Miss Cam will take you through the classes of your first semester as well as introduce you to our teaching staff. Of course, you probably know them already, since you write so much about them."

Nina could hardly breathe. Were they going to be taught by the CSIs themselves? Sweeeet! Surely, she could then get to have A Talk with Grissom about Sara, strawberry jam, and his desk. She could get to match up her One True Pairing! This was better than any prize.

"Finally," Ecklie boomed, cutting through the excited buzz of the room, "time spent here will not affect time in the real world and you will be returned to the time you left upon graduating, you're all having a mass delusion that characters from your favourite TV show are actually real, blah, blah, blah. But don't try to skip your homework or term papers with that excuse. Now get lost."

The buzz grew to a roar as soon as Ecklie stepped down and Juliana let out a little squee by Nina's side.

"I'll get to see Catherine and Grissom finally realise what I've known all along!"

"You'll get to see Sara and Grissom do that, haha!"

"You're sick!"

"You're deluded!"

"You're all deluded," a girl said firmly from behind them. "Grissom loves Nick."

II

In the back, the teaching staff had already quietly filed in, watching the mayhem.

"They care more about my love life than I do," Catherine remarked to Warrick, who merely shook his head in wonder.

"Are we really sure this is a good idea, Grissom?" Nick asked, dodging a flying book. "They're… Passionate."

Grissom shrugged. "Think of it as an experiment and them as the ants we're observing."

"I'm not usually lusted after by ants," Nick muttered under his breath.

"Give it a few days, you might like it," Sara suggested.

"Ha ha."

"Are we just gonna watch this?" Greg remarked, tilting his head. "Not that I'm complaining, but is this the start to the semester we really want?"

"Yes," Grissom said with conviction, thinking of the countless fanfics that had made him weep (like three angry babies dropped on their heads) after sleeping with Sara. "Yes, this is exactly the start we want."

Vengeance could be sweet, but so could education.

He smiled.

It was time to teach a few lessons.


	2. Orientation and Disorientation

Chapter Two: Orientation and Disorientation

Theresa Regosa wandered through the halls of the casino', holding a paper map in her hands. After Ecklie's short introductory speech to the student body, they had dispersed for a while, left to explore the first floor of what was really a fanfiction university. "Well," she said to herself, "this might work out for the best. I'm sure there's some way to help Gil and Catherine see the blazing light brighter than the sun that is their undying love." As she walked, she plotted Grissom and Catherine's inevitable succumbing to their mutual love. She wondered if perhaps there were closets she could lock the two in. She passed by a few other milling students, all quietly talking amongst themselves.

Then, she spotted The Enemy. Another CGR fan had told Theresa the girl's name was Nina,and earlier she had heard the girl loudly proclaim that she was going to get Gil and Sara together. _Not_ _on_ _my_ _watch_, Theresa thought, glaring at the heathen Grissom/Sara shipper.

Nina didn't look up, so she missed Theresa's fiery glare. Just as well.

Finally finished mentally turning the other girl to ash, Theresa continued on, in search of one of the other meeting halls. Supposedly there was going to be an orientation meeting where they would all learn more about the university. It was scheduled to begin shortly.

Suddenly, as if appearing from thin air, Theresa spotted Gil ahead of her as he walked his cute little bowlegged walk toward the next room. She didn't need an engraved invitation. She broke into a dead run to catch him.

Unfortunately, so had all the rest of the students. It was a full-on stampede.

Oblivious, Grissom continued walking to the meeting hall. He turned a corner.

When the students reached the corner, Gil Grissom was nowhere to be seen. The stampede stopped short, with most of the students (those who hadn't crashed into one another and fell) wondering the same thing: How did he do that?

Theresa sighed. She could always catch him later.

II

It didn't take long for the students to get themselves situated in the new meeting hall. The room was filled mostly with girls, but there were a few guys in attendance. At the front, a tall blonde woman stood, watching them, while Miss Cam, whom most of them had already met, sat at a desk full of papers, giving them all a thoughtful look.

Some girls near Theresa where whispering amongst themselves, but not so quietly that she couldn't hear them.

"My name is Kitty," one of the girls said to the other, who happened to be Theresa's arch-nemesis, even if the other didn't know it yet. "I hear you ship Grissom and Sara?"

"Yeah," the other said. "I'm Nina. Who do you ship?"

"Cath/Warrick and Grissom/Sara, naturally!"

The two shared a soft squee of delight at meeting one another, and Theresa scowled hard. Geeklovers. The bane of her GCR existence. And worse, she was sitting next to a Yo!Blinger. Maybe she could accidentally stick out a sharp elbow

Further thought on the subject of the One True Pairing and the evils of those who opposed it were driven out of her head (and the heads of most of the other students) when the soft voice of one of the sexiest men on television drifted over the room.

"Hello, my name is Gil Grissom and I'll be—"

A loud cry of, "GRISSOM!" followed by innumerable squees and fangirlish noises prevented him from finishing his sentence.

Grissom glanced over at Miss Cam, a weary look on his face. Yes, he wanted to educate these masses of misinformed, deluded purveyors of what barely qualified as fanfiction, but perhaps he didn't so much want to interact with them. Ecklie had thought this particular job beneath him and had dumped it on the less than willing Graveyard shift supervisor.

Miss Cam gave him a sympathetic shrug.

Sighing, Grissom turned back to the student body. "As I was saying," he continued, his voice carrying over numerous delighted sighs, "I will be conducting this short orientation. First, I would like to introduce Miss Cam and Miss Princess Artemis to you."

Miss Cam stood up and bowed elegantly to the gathering, while Miss Princess Artemis stepped forward and did the same.

"Miss Cam will be your Course Coordinator, and Miss Princess Artemis, who has told me that you may call her Miss PA for the sake of awkwardness, will be the Student/Faculty Liaison. Please take any questions you may have about class requirements to Miss Cam; she will be handing out your schedules and dorm assignments shortly. If you have any needs for student counseling or questions for the staff, please speak to Miss PA. Any questions?"

Grissom watched the students. Judging by the glazed expressions and the not inconsiderable amounts of drool gracing most of the girls in the audience, he thought they hadn't even heard him. Maybe he had bored them into catatonia?

Miss PA whispered something in his ear. "Oh," Grissom said, flushing slightly. It hadn't occurred to him that most of these girls would die happy listening to himrecite the phone book. He tapped the mic. "Students?"

For a moment, the female portion of the student body that had been rendered motionless by the delight of hearing Grissom talk to them in real life remained so. But slowly, awareness crept back upon them, many wiping the dribble from their mouths as discreetly as they could. Then they started squeeing and making fangirlish noises again.

Happy to have an aware audience, even if it was a squeeing one, Grissom continued. "This first semester you will have four introductory classes along with a number of seminars, all designed to teach you how to write CSI fanfiction that won't cause readers' brains to spontaneously combust. You all have maps of the university; feel free to explore and settle in. There is an on-site lab, a library complete with computers, and a Vegas-style buffet for your meals. There is also a student lounge and dormitories on the floors above us. You are free to move about the entire university; only the top floor, which is staff only, is off limits. Classes will begin in a few days. Tonight there will be a introductory mixer; you aren't required to attend. Once you graduate, you will all be issued OFUCSI approved licenses for writing fanfiction. Good luck; do your best, and I'm sure you will find this a profitable experience."

Silence reigned. Most of the class was catatonic again. Grissom bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't get people. He couldn't wait to get back up to the staff level, spend some time with the Komodo dragons, and maybe do a few crosswords. Or maybe he would decompress on OFUCSI's roller coaster. He sighed deeply. Nope, he just didn't get people.

II

Theresa stared in horror at the class list. Well, not so much the classes themselves, although Groping Google 101' sounded a tad frightening, but the book list...the book list...

It would take a forklift and a hundred years to deal with the books for Forensics 101. She had never needed to know anything about forensics before to write fanfic, why did she need to now? She wrote Gil/Catherine, not case files, for goodness sake! Her masterpiece had them, after much angsting, finally married and raising Lindsey, whom Grissom had discovered was actually his daughter, not that bastard Eddie's. Plus there were the triplets and all of the money Sam Braun had left them when he died, enabling them to both realise their true dream of raising bunnies.

Another student, whom Theresa recalled was named Sax Hall, looked over her class list and said, "I hope Warrick is teaching one of these classes...preferably without a shirt."

Theresa grinned. "I'd have no objections to that!" She wondered if there was a way to rig the air conditioning so the classrooms were just warm enough to necessitate some serious shirtless CSI action...

She looked back at her book list. "Just who the hell is this David Phillips? He's the author of Woo, not Woe: A Guide to Successful Love'?"

"I dunno."

Miss PA walked by and whapped both Theresa and Sax on the head.

"Hey, what was that for?" Theresa demanded, rubbing her whapped head.

Miss PA continued walking, but tossed over her shoulder, "He's the assistant coroner. Pay attention sometime."

Theresa, completely missing the tone of warning in the liaison's voice, watched as Miss PA entered an elevator that required a key card. She looked inside, and saw that Grissom was also in the lift...as well as the biggest damned lizard she had ever seen.

Gil scratched the green lizard on the head and cooed, "You're such a good Komodo, Robbings. I have some nice steaks for you, you'll like that, won't you?"

Robbings seemed happy, until he spotted Theresa peeking. Then he hissed, showing a row of needle-like teeth.

"It's okay, calm down, she can't get in here," Grissom said, and that's the last Theresa saw of them as the elevator doors closed.

A key card? Her mind was already taking that information in for several possible plots, all of them oh so delicious.

II

In the minds of many students, the dormitory assignments were both Evil and Wrong. Mainly, students had compatible roommates, but were in rooms directly across from others who shipped opposing ships. Exclusive slashers were set up uncomfortably near anti-slashers. Students who liked Sofia were trapped in rooms with others who hated her with every fiber of their beings. The Mary Sue writers were on the same floor, and that made everyone uneasy.

A large contingent of die-hard Grissom/Sara shippers were stuck right across the hall from several rabid Grissom/Catherine shippers, and just to spice things up, some Greg/Sara shippers were liberally sprinkled in with the Geeklovers, while Catherine/Warrick fans were mixed in with the GCRs.

It was as if the faculty had intentionally done this just to make everyone mad.

This was not terribly unlikely, given that Ecklie was the headmaster and almost universally reviled.

It was enough to put Theresa in a serious sulk as she sat on her bed. Her roommate, fortunately, shipped the same ship as she did, but she was stuck with Nina right across the hall. She wasn't sure she could handle living so close to her Evil Arch-Nemesis and Rival for a whole semester, not to mention several.

For her part, Nina was completely oblivious to the fact that she was an Evil Arch-Nemesis and Rival. She did harbor a healthy disgust at all the Grissom/Catherine shippers near her and counted them all Vile Enemies, however, so the two students were almost even.

Juliana, Theresa's roommate, asked, "Are you going to the mixer tonight?"

Still in a state of deep sulk, Theresa pouted, "I don't know. I don't want to be anywhere near those Dorklovers."

Juliana nodded in sympathy.

Just then, another student rushed into the room. "The staff is at the mixer! And they're all dressed up! Grissom in a tux! I almost died!" She may not have died, but she did finally faint.

"Gil in a tux! Then maybe Catherine's in a sexy dress that will catch his eye and they will finally realize their true love!" Theresa said excitedly.

Juliana grinned ear to ear. "Let's get dressed!"

II

Downstairs, in the elegant ballroom (this was a really nice casino, apparently), the entire staff was dressed to the nines. Some where standing around a buffet table, others sat in chairs, some danced, and a few were playing poker. Well, even if it was a university, it _was_ also a casino...

Very few of the students actually got up the courage to mix with the faculty. In fact, quite a few of them were simply dumbstruck.

"Lord have mercy," one of the girls whispered when she spotted Warrick. She plopped down on the floor, legs wobbly.

Warrick in a tuxedo was quite a sight to behold. Worse, he was wearing a green and blue cummerbund, which had the deliriously giddy effect of making his eyes change from blue to green as he looked around.

Several students had to be taken to the on-site hospital to recover from their swoons after seeing that. At least, it was assumed they were taken there—no one had quite dared ask Miss Cam if there was also a body farm nearby

Nick, also resplendent in a tux, was standing next to Greg, who while honoring the conventions of formalwear, had added his own unique twist to it by wearing a tailed, deep burgundy suit with a patterned vest of indeterminate but eye-searing color. Nick stepped closer and motioned for Greg to lean his head down a bit. Greg complied, and Nick muttered, "Y'know, man, these students are beginning to scare me."

"See, I told you they were in love!"

"They're so cute together!"

Greg straightened up and blinked at the self-proclaimed authors who had shouted that. Worryingly, they all seemed to be taking notes. "I see what you mean."

In another section of the room, several girls had accosted Sara, who was wearing an elegant cream dress, and dragged her toward the buffet where Grissom was munching on some chocolate covered grasshoppers and talking to Doc Robbins. Sara struggled against the girls. "I was talking to Mia!" she hissed, but that didn't stop them.

Catherine, in a beautiful black dress, was in similar straits. She had been playing poker with Archie and Warrick. Some students had grabbed her and tried to force her in Grissom's direction, while others were pulling the first students off her and trying to get her to sit down next to Warrick again. "Really girls, do you mind? I was playing a game," Catherine stated, more politely than the girls deserved. It didn't deter them, though.

Shortly, a fist-fight broke out between the girls dragging Catherine in various directions. Some were clearly affiliated with CWR, while others were of a Gil/Catherine persuasion. As a (self-proclaimed) leading figure within the Grissom/Catherine Truth To The World movement, Theresa was of course participating. As were her sharp elbows.

Greg munched on a cracker, watching the altercation with amusement. "Actually, this could be fun."

Ecklie swooped in, standing menacingly over the fighting students. "Now, now, students. You don't want me assigning you hundred page essays on proper behavior toward your superiors, do you?"

The fighting instantly stopped, and Catherine slipped away, back to the game.

"No, Mister Ecklie," a few of the braver students ventured, looking at their toes.

"That's right," Ecklie said with a thin smile. "Now excuse me while I go rescue Miss Sidle from those crazed shippers. I'm not going to tolerate anyone playing matchmaker in my university." With that, he stalked off towards Sara and the small crowd of students still pulling her along.

When Ecklie was out of earshot, Theresa said, "We'll just have to be sneakier."

"As if," one of the CWR shippers said. "It wouldn't work anyway. Catherine is destined to be with Warrick."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

From a safe distance, Nick told Greg, "Well, maybe. But I'd rather they keep their hands off my friends. You'd think they'd heard of decent behavior before."

Greg munched thoughtfully. "I guess decent is as decent ships and Is that girl drawing us?"

"Seems so."

"Then why are her eyes so glazed?"

"I think she's picturing us naked," Nick replied, squinting at her a little.

Greg thought this over. "Let's get her some more to drink, then show the drawing to Ecklie and tell him it's meant to be him and Grissom. I'm sure he'll love it"

"You're mean, man."

Greg grinned and raised his glass as if in toast. "No, I'm educating."


	3. Komodo Kickassery & Other Morning Happen

Chapter Three: Komodo Kickassery and Other Morning Happenings

_Grissom was beaming in his white tuxedo, at his arm an equally white Sara, the gown silk and lace and white roses. The trumpets were blowing as the rest of the CSIs threw confetti, but the newlyweds paused suddenly, turning._

"Nina, you brought us together. How can we ever thank you?" Grissom smiled and Nina's heart swelled. It was only fair that they thanked her, when she had gotten them together and given the wonder herb that made Sara fertile again, but it still felt wonderful to be acknowledged so openly. "How can we, Nina? Niiiiina…"

"Niiiiiina…"

"Mmmm?"

"You going to wake up sometime this century?"

Blinking, Nina adjusted her vision to see her black-haired roommate, Elisa, leaning over her. Ah. A dream again. She'd have to write it down, as many great fanfics of hers had been born out of dreams.

"Ow… What happened?"

Elisa looked strangely sympathetic, a sure sign that whatever had happened could not have been good.

"You were hit on the head with a book. 'Relationships for Dummies: That Means You Too, CSI!' by Al Robbins, I think. You passed out and someone from the staff got you to bed."

"Oh."

"I guess you shouldn't have suggested to that Ekwy girl that Grissom was only with Lady Heather because Lady Heather role-played Sara for him," Elisa said thoughtfully. Nina only groaned in response. Dratted Lady Heather/Grissom shippers, they sure knew how to wield a book. Probably all closeted dominatrixes who knew nothing of love but all about whipping.

She would get her vengeance on Ekwy, oh yes. Probably something involving chaining Ekwy to a rotting corpse and mailing it to FarFarOffistan.

Putting the sweet thought of revenge aside for the moment, Nina fought to an upright position. It had been a good party last night, all in all, books on heads not withstanding. Grissom had been oh so delicious and he had looked in Sara's direction all of twenty-two times. Nina had counted.

Of course, that rude Theresa girl had claimed he'd also looked in Catherine's direction twenty-three times, but that was surely all lies and if he had looked, it had probably been helplessly trying to communicate to Catherine that she had to set him and Sara up since he was so awkward with love. Nina liked that plot, if only because it annoyed CGRs even more.

"Did I miss much?" she asked, rubbing her temples.

"Not really," Elisa replied. "Well, some of us Catherine/Warrick shippers tried to dump a bucket of mistletoe on the two so they'd be forced to kiss. Unfortunately, they are both very fast and we dumped it on Hodges and Doc Robbins instead and they actually did kiss, just to spite us, I think. I'm gonna be blind for a year."

It was Nina's turn to wince in sympathy, even if she'd never been that hot on CWR (though a lot of Geeklovers seemed to be, like Elisa). Still, if it kept Catherine away from Grissom, she was all in favor. "Where'd you get mistletoe?"

"Greg."

"Where did he get it?"

"The mysterious staff section."

"What, it's Christmas up there all the time?"

Elina just shrugged. "No one knows but the staff. I'm heading off to breakfast, see you later."

Nina suddenly felt a whole lot more awake as a devious plan hit her. It was time to be sneaky. It was time for the ultimate vengeance. It was time for the ultimate plan.

It was time to get into the staff section.

II

The elevator leading to the staff section was empty and quiet, with most students probably still sleeping off hangovers and insult-a-thons. It took a lot out of one to battle the heathen followers of Other Pairings followers, after all. No ordinary insults would do, which sadly meant that some recuperation time was usually needed afterwards.

The elevator seemed normal enough, Nina surmised, but it didn't budge as she pushed the button for the top floor. A keycard reader gleamed at her, as if teasing her with the shiny metal. But that was absurd, it wasn't like it was alive, or anything. Besides, it was only a minor set-back. She just had to find a keycard.

So where would a staff member be this early in the morning, aside from the staff section?

Didn't Miss Cam handle class requirements? Maybe a fake problem with a class would be just the thing…

Plan revitalized, Nina set out. She found Miss Cam's office on the same floor as the lecture halls, which already smelled of Education. Nina wondered just what made that smell – it was a semi-mix of stuffed air, paper, people, and sour socks. Why it was always sour socks, she had no idea.

She knocked carefully, and cracked the door open when a grunt answered. "Miss Cam?"

"Yes?" Miss Cam sounded more than a little annoyed – a bit odd for someone who was meant to help students, Nina thought.

"I have a question."

"If you want to borrow a wheelbarrow for transporting the books for Forensics 101, go talk to the janitor on the basement floor," Miss Cam replied dismissively. "That's also where you get cleaning supplies if someone spray painted 'Greg+NickBunnySquee!' on your locker."

"No, no," Nina muttered, making a mental note to check her locker later. "I was wondering if I could…. Eh, take a more advanced class this year? Self study?"

Miss Cam seemed to find this amusing, looking up from the file she was peeking through. "More advanced class? What did you have in mind? 'Symbolism and Subtext (Not All Butterflies and Buttsex)' that you'll have later on? 'Legally Kicking Ass' with Brass?"

With a sudden jolt, Nina realized she hadn't actually looked at what the more advanced classes were. Come to think of it, had the staff told them? It would be slightly worrying if they had not.

"No, I was thinking… More advanced Relationshipping class?" Nina ventured. "I mean, my long experience with writing Grissom and Sara, that One True Pairing, surely makes me qualified for an advanced…"

"No," Miss Cam said flatly. She pulled up another folder. "Let's see… You wrote 'Heart of the Butterfly's Cocoon', yes?"

"Yeah…"

"Where Grissom and Sara do it eight times? Within an hour? On a swing?" Miss Cam raised an eyebrow. "You do realize Grissom is a middle-aged man?"

Nina scowled. "True love conquers all!"

Miss Cam gave a short sigh. "Love does not conquer the laws of biology, gravity, mathematics, energy, and/or mass. You really…. What?"

The last was directed to someone behind Nina and she turned to see Miss PA in the hallway, looking slightly annoyed.

"Bit of a ruckus in the student mess hall. I think you better come."

Miss Cam groaned. "Food fight already?"

"Not quite. It's more like food cold war at the moment," Miss PA replied, shaking her head. "It's the Nick/Warrick shippers arguing with the Greg/Nick shippers over what would be the sexiest things to whisper in Nick's ear – Greg's sweet Norwegian nothings or Warrick's gambling euphemisms."

"Had to happen," Miss Cam muttered, getting up. As she passed Nina, she gave a hard glare. "In my rude opinion, you're more than overqualified for Relationshipping 101 and not any advanced class. But feel free to check out the more advanced books from the library, even though I doubt you'll read a word."

Nina stuck her tongue out Miss Cam's back as the two walked away and instantly felt better. She felt even better yet when she threw a glance into the paper-stacked office. There, gleaming on the desk, lay the keycard.

The day was getting better and better.

II

Gold!

The elevator door opened finally and Nina walked out into the staff section, her heart a-flutter. This was truly striking gold. Now, she just needed to find Grissom and Sara, dump the bucket of cold water on them, lock them in a room and wait for them to share body heat as not to get a cold. And as all knew, that would lead to instant romance and true love realized.

She hummed the wedding march as she took in the hallway, bucket in hand. It looked fairly fashionable, carpets on the floors, ornamented lamps giving a soft light, a few paintings hanging on the walls. Here and there was a door, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear clattering noises and low conversation. Now she just had to find a suitable ambush spot and…

The elevator pinged open again, and swung around hurriedly, ready to toss the water instantly if were Grissom and Sara, only to come face to face with…

"You!"

"You!"

Theresa and Nina stared at each other, Nina trying to make The Enemy's brain spontaneously combust by mere thought. It didn't seem to work too well; she only got a nasty stare in return and her eyes started watering.

"How did you get here?" Nina finally hissed.

"I stole Miss PA's keycard, hah! How did _you_ get here?" Theresa hissed back, clutching her bucket of goo (Nina suspected this was meant to be tossed at Catherine and Grissom, giving both an excellent reason to shower, but only a delusional CGR shipper would think they'd then shower together!).

"Stole Miss Cam's."

Both took this under careful advisement without lowering the intensity of hate-filled glaring.

"You don't think…" Nina said, suddenly feeling as if she was being watched.

"…That this was a little too easy?"

"Think we were set up?"

They contemplated this, both still staring the other down - it did not come natural for them to think the other capable of thought, after all. Even if they might be in the same predicament, they were still on the opposite of the Abyss. (Nina of course being on the All Right side, as far as she was concerned, Theresa being on the All Wrong.)

A low hiss punctuated the silence, followed by another.

"Are you hearing… AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

II

It was breakfast time in the staff section, the air thick with the smell of coffee (Blue Hawai'ian, naturally; Greg would tolerate nothing less), bacon, and eggs. In one corner, Jacqui and Mia were having a low conversation while sipping tea, Mia relating how one CGR shipper had tried to bribe her to take Warrick out of the picture with promises of unlimited supplies of hair care products or something. Grissom wasn't really listening, more focused on eating his toast, feeling undisturbed by the distant screaming as Catherine, Warrick, and Nick walked in.

"What's the noise about?" Nick asked, reaching for the coffee. "Don't tell me Greg lured his lusters into witnessing an autopsy already?"

"No," Grissom replied simply. He took another bite and continued reading the paper on determining bruise aging. He wondered briefly if perhaps a few injured students would make the perfect elements for studying this. 

"I'm going to have to guess until I get it right, aren't I?" Nick muttered, looking slightly annoyed.

"Or you could just look out into the hallway," Sara answered, entering from said hallway, smiling slightly. "The noise is two Komodo dragons and two student intruders."

"Already?" Nick looked dismayed as Warrick held out a hand, rubbing his fingers together in the universal gesture for 'gimme money'.

"That's fifteen bucks you owe me, bro. I told you they would try today."

Nick shook his head. "I was sure they were so hung over they'd have to wait until tomorrow."

While Nick grudgingly forked over the money, the screams died away and the hissing increased. A moment later, Warwick and Gill patted in, some pieces of torn cloth between their teeth and a look of triumph in their eyes.

"You make daddy Gil so proud," Grissom said soothingly, handing over some bacon that both dragons gulped down.

"I'm not sure how I feel about Komodo dragons named after misspelled versions of our names appearing in fanfic," Sara said, grimacing at the smell of meat as Grissom unveiled a raw steak to the increasingly happy dragons. "Sra keeps trailing me, I think she's trying to be like me in her Komodo way."

"Katharine is doing the same," Catherine muttered. "She tries to make Grissholm interact more with the other Komodos and I think she's making eyes at Warwick while hissing appreciatingly at Stoks."

"Oh, they're just trying to live up to their names," Miss Cam replied, entering with a brisk pace to her steps. "Don't worry, the dragons weren't hurt. The students will be in the hospital wing with aching behinds for a day or two and they'll probably tell fellow students about it all. I don't think we'll have more attempted student breaches for a little while."

"I give them three days," Warrick said lazily.

"Four," Catherine countered.

"Care to make a wager on that?"

II

Morning broke over OFUCSI, the student mess hall being cleaned after extensive rounds of omelet artillery, two very sore students moaning in the hospital wing, five Nick/Sara shippers trying to bagel three Warrick/Sara shippers into submission and a lot of aching heads awakening. In the staff hallway, a bucket of water lay lonely and spilt, almost like a bottle of champagne broken against a ship to celebrate the launch.

Only there weren't any bubbles. Yet. But when the omelet reacted with the spilt chemical concoction a student had been given by Hodges (as an assured 'love potion' that would make even Catherine and Nick finally see the truth in their mutual attraction, oh yes), then there would be.

Then it would be a proper launch at last. Cast off, little OFUCSI…


	4. The Classes Begin and the Heat is On

Chapter Four: The Classes Begin and The Heat is On

A few days later, still nursing an aching butt (those Komodo dragons bit _hard!_), Theresa was putting her plan into action. Today was the first day of class, which was both looked forward to and not so much. Look forward to for the chance to glimpse their favorite CSIs more, not so much for all the work of studying. In a few hours, their formal education would begin. Woe and joy be to them all.

She knew with determined certainty in her heart that one of the CSIs would teach this class; she was hoping for Nick or Warrick, but would settle for Greg. Unfortunately, it had been difficult recruiting other students for her plan. Sure, there were hundreds of students who were willing to help her ensure the class was taught by a shirtless CSI, but for some reason, every willing helper turned out to be one of the Enemy GSR shippers, and she had to chase them off under threat of bony elbow to the ribs.

Theresa had tried very hard to locate a member of The One True Shipper Faith to help her. She would have gone to her roommate, but after seeing the gaping hole in her clothes left by the dragons, Juliana was laying low for now. Eventually, she settled for the help of Pocky, a Nick/Greg shipper who was so eager to see both shirtless she didn't mind helping a CGRer.

No matter. Her plan would go forward without a hitch. It wasn't that hard to wreck OFUCSI's air conditioning units, after all.

II

When the time came for the first class of the semester to begin, the casino-cum-university was sweltering inside. Students fanned themselves, panting. The only reason no one had lynched Theresa yet (especially all the Geeklovers who had been ready to help her until they discovered she was one of those insane fangirls who couldn't possibly actually watch CSI, since she totally missed all the Geek Mind Melds and such) was because the rumor had spread quickly that one of the male CSIs would teach the class sans shirt, and lust was running at an all time high.

A few students were hoping for one of the female CSIs to show up in as little clothing as possible, though the majority was holding out for a male. All students arrived in the class a little ahead of time, which was unusual for students, wearing skimpy bathing suits and trunks, hoping to catch the eye of their Lust Object. Lust could make eager students out of anyone, it seemed.

Then, it happened. The door to the classroom turned. The students held their collective breath. Would it be Warrick who stepped through the door? Sara? Nick? Grissom? The anticipation built to staggering levels.

The door opened.

"Welcome, class, to Relationshipping 101," a gentle, grandfatherly voice echoed through the room.

"Aiiiii! My eyes, they burn!" a nearby student, by the name of Dawn, shrieked in dismay. She had been watching the door intently, hoping for a glimpse at Grissom in small amounts of clothing.

"Who is that?" asked Katie, looking quite baffled. There wasn't anything on CSI but the eyecandy and the Geeklove, was there?

"He's OLD! He's so very old!" This was not how it was supposed to happen!

The teacher, who was indeed dressed in nothing but swim trunks, smiled. It was not an entirely reassuring expression. "My name is Doctor Al Robbins. I'll be your instructor for this course." Then, with a straight face, he added, "is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

Many, many students slumped deeply in their chairs, and not a few directed glares of such heat at Theresa that she was sure she would be incinerated on the spot.

II

Up on the staff level, they didn't mind so much that the air conditioning was down. It would be repaired soon enough, but in the meantime, it was a good excuse to try out the rooftop pool.

CSIs and lab techs, as well as Miss Cam and Miss PA, lounged around the pool, sunning themselves, reading books and journals, or splashed around in the pool. Several Komodos were also there, soaking up the warm rays of the Vegas sun. Most of the dragons were gathered around Grissom's beach chair, but a few were in the water. Kathryn was teaching the young Poncho how to attack students.

All told, it was a really nice day.

A really, really nice day. Miss Cam kept shooting a finely toned Warrick surreptitious glances from behind a book, enjoying this particular perk of her job at OFUCSI more than she would ever admit to even under torture. Miss PA, from her spot in the pool, was happily watching the Komodos play, or so it appeared; they were down on the end where Greg was swimming, and dragon watching was a perfect cover for Greg watching.

In fact, the truth was, just about everyone was furtively checking everyone else out, enjoying the views. Grissom was happily taking in the view afforded by bikini clad Sara, Catherine, and Sofia—he was a man, after all, and enjoyed looking at women. If he spent some time studying Sara's star-shaped ankle tattoo, none could blame him; few had seen it, and Nick, Warrick, Greg, and Archie were looking at it, too. Sara and Catherine, as well as the other women, enjoyed the view of their attractive colleagues, as well as the ego stroking they got from all the appreciative looks they received. If any of the shippers had been there to see it, they would have likely short circuited their brains trying to keep up with all the glances and trying to interpret all the regular looks to fit their favorite pairings. And there were a whole lot of glances being glanced. A bunch of attractive men and women by a pool? Oh yeah. Ogle-a-thon central.

The only two _not_ checking everyone else out were David Phillips and his fiancée.

Nick, who was sitting on the steps in the shallow end of the pool, lifted his head from where he was resting and peeked an eye at two of the dragons in the pool. "Hey, Sar? Is that Sander hitting on Sarah over there?"

Sara's head shot up from her forensics journal. She gave the two dragons a sardonic look. "Yeah, Nick, it looks like Sander is as shameless a flirt as Sanders."

"I resemble that remark!" Greg shouted from the other end of the pool, where he was swimming laps. "I resemble it very much!"

"Yeah you do," Warrick smirked while trying to get Warrik to stop rubbing against his foot.

Most of them shared a laugh, but Grissom just shook his head, a faint smile on his lips.

Sara asked, "Hey, Greg, what's that on your back?"

Confused blinking accompanied Greg's, "Huh?" After a moment of trying to see if there was anything unusual stuck to his back, understanding dawned. "Oh, those are scars."

"But you didn't have any scars in the shower!"

Suddenly, all eyes were on Sara. Sara looked around, startled.

"Oh, and here I thought you were _teasing_ me when you said you saw everything," Greg replied, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Grissom looked at Sara, then Greg, then Sara, and back. There was a good chance he would require chiropractic visits if he kept it up. The rest kept staring at Sara, although a few of the men paused to give Greg a thumbs up and/or jealous looks. They hadn't heard about any shower, and a number of them would give their left legs to share one with Sara.

"Wha? Wait, huh? Oh...jeez," Sara spluttered. She sunk as far down into her lounger as she could, holding up her journal to hide the bright red blush that crept up her cheeks. She thought for sure everyone had heard about that. "It was a Hazmat decontamination shower," she squeaked.

"Ah, but my charms are irresistible," Greg said, resting against the side of the pool, expression supremely cocky. "Even the strong-willed Miss Sidle eventually succumbs. I suppose it's just natural that she took advantage of the situation."

That remark earned him a patented Grissom Death-Glare (A Registered Trademark of Gil Grissom Entomological Enterprises, All Rights Reserved).

Greg ignored it and scratched his neck. "But you got a good look at my back, and missed the scars?"

"I guess she wasn't looking as hard as you thought, Greggo," Nick said, smiling.

"No, no scars," Sara said quickly but with certainty, burying her face even further in her journal. This action merely served to call more attention to herself, and the rest began snickering and laughing softly. A few were nice and hid their laughs behind coughs, but Ecklie openly laughed-sneered, an action commonly considered humanly impossible.

"Well, that's odd. Was there a canon-quake?" Archie asked, trying to wipe the grin off his face. It wasn't every day he got to see Sara embarrassed, after all.

"I don't know," Greg answered. "I'm just going to bask in the knowledge that Sara Sidle really did ogle me in the shower!"

"Can we discuss something else, please?" Grissom asked grumpily. He was still Death-Glaring, but Greg didn't notice; he'd gone back to swimming, albeit with a much happier bearing than previously.

Catherine couldn't help snickering behind her romance novel (the one that she had been using as cover for taking good long looks at Grissom, Warrick, and Nick...and Archie...and maybe she peeked once at Ecklie and Hodges, too). "Kids," she whispered to herself.

Miss Cam took a break from Warrick-watching long enough to jot down a few notes for the classes on canon that would be held later. Then she happily returned to her former oh so satisfying activity. Sometimes, life was very good. And it was even better knowing that while she was enjoying herself, the students were probably being very miserable.

II

Robbins stood in front of the class, a slide projector at his side, no shirt on his torso. "If you would please turn to page 15 in the textbook Relationships for Dummies: That Means You Too, CSI!' we can get started."

Roasting students groaned, retrieving their copies of Robbins' book. One girl stood up, fists planted on her hips. "I," she declared imperiously, "don't write relationships. I only write angst. I don't see why I need this class."

Doc Robbins gave the student a hard look over his glasses. "Well, if you feel you don't need the class, you can take it up with Miss PA. She's the one you want to speak to for student counseling. Or you can go to Miss Cam, since she coordinates the courses. In the mean time, you'll just have to stick it out."

The girl sat down hard, muttering to herself about the deepness of the angst of being alone, woe, alas, wail.

"To get back to the class, the first thing we'll learn about are the so-called ship names'. Keep in mind, ship' is a short form of the word relationshipping, so it doesn't refer to a boat."

"But...the S.S. Geeklove!"

"Sorry, not a boat. Can't fall overboard, but you can certainly go overboard," Robbins replied. "Would you mind hitting the lights?" he asked, pointing to a student in the back. Once the lights were out, he flicked on the slide projector. An image of a chocolate candy bar showed up on the screen.

"First up, we have Snickers, which refers to the Nick/Sara pairing. As you can see on the screen, a real Snickers doesn't really resemble either one of them. People who ship this pairing sometimes refer to themselves as Snickers; again, there's not much of a resemblance."

"Except that Snickers are full of nuts!"

Many Nick/Sara shippers took offense at this and threw wadded up papers at the offending student.

Robbins smiled at that. Somehow, he found the students more amusing than anything else. "Next up, we have Greg/Sara, also known as Sandle." A slide of a flip-flop shone on the screen. "I know it's not spelled the same, but it does sound the same, and that's important. Please note how neither Sara nor Greg looks like a sandal. I don't recall off hand seeing either wear them, either, but then, coming down to the morgue in open-toed shoes isn't the best plan of action."

The projector clicked to a new slide. This time, a picture of a backwoods hick standing in front of a run-down house showed. "Sometimes the Catherine/Nick shippers call this pairing Hillbilly Love. I'm not sure why...neither of them grew up in the mountains, and hillbilly' itself isn't the nicest term to use. Although I suppose they mean no harm, since they call themselves Hillbillies."

Much soft snickering and a few growls greeted this revelation.

"Continuing on," Robbins said, moving the slide forward, "we have Grillows." A picture of a barbecue was prominently displayed. "I know what a grill is, but I'm not sure if the Grissom/Catherine shippers are grilling ows' or lows' on it. Actually, this is a particularly egregious example of the common practice of taking the names of the members of a pairing and smashing them together like a trainwreck. Sandle is another, but it conjures up images of shoes rather than something largely unidentifiable. Incidentally, if anyone tries to ship me with Catherine and calls it RobCat, I can assure you that person will find themselves hip-deep in a ten thousand page essay on the damages of smashing and stupidity."

Theresa frowned hard, very unhappy to hear someone speak ill of anything pertaining to the One Way of Light and Love. Maybe she could try giving him one of her fanfics to bring him to the Grillows way.

The next slide was a picture of a huge, ugly gold dollar sign encrusted with diamonds and hanging off a thick gold chain. "Catherine/Warrick shippers often use the term Yo!Bling to describe their favorite pairing. This," Robbins pointed at the gaudy jewelry, "is bling. Catherine does wear jewelry, but never anything so godawful. Yo' is just something people say. Perhaps the term really refers to some form of yodeling, although again, I'm not sure how that applies.

"There are many other names for relationship pairings amongst my coworkers. I think my favorite by far is Geeklove."

At this, many Geeklovers perked up and started smiling. Nina was fully prepared to lord over all GCR shippers that one of the teachers liked her ship name. Particularly that wench Theresa.

Robbins adjusted his glasses with his free hand, then clicked to the next slide. A picture of every member of CSI with the exception of Ecklie and Brass blazed across the screen.

"I understand that most people think Geeklove only refers to the Grissom/Sara pairing. However, the reason I like the term so much is, as you can see, they are _all_ geeks, every single blessed one of them."

A collective gasp rippled through the classroom. They had not thought of that! Geeklove couldn't possibly refer to every pairing! The very thought of Geeklove referring to Grissom/Catherine or Warrick/Sara made several GSR students so ill they had to headdesk the pain away.

"Some of them are in love."

Hope began to spring in the hearts of the Grissom/Sara shippers, as well as the rest of the class—horrible revelation or not, they smelled gossip in the thick, hot air. Would Doctor Albert Robbins reveal unto them the One True Pairing?

"For instance, my assistant, David Phillips, is engaged. I'm quite happy for him."

The howling of crushed shippers could be heard all the way to the staff section. The desperate cries of disappointed students carried even to the ends of the Strip and beyond. And on the roof, the staff took in the howls as they did the sun, feeling the day very bright and fair with student misery.


	5. Quakes, Names and AssOgling Odds

Chapter Five: Quakes, Names and Ass-Ogling Odds

It was very fast becoming very apparent to Nina that this, all in all, had been a spectacularly Bad Idea to bet on.

When she woke up this morning it had seemed so clear, so brilliant in her mind. Sara and Grissom were not dating because Grissom was afraid of how it might affect their work. So if that was removed, there would be love, lust and litters. And who better to remove that obstacle than Ecklie, their boss?

That thought had been the first mistake, really. The second had been to act on it and attempt to make Ecklie a romantic. Obviously, Nina hadn't been paying attention during Ecklie's welcome speech.

But it had seemed such a brilliant idea when she'd thought about it then and the odds had seemed all in her favor. How was she to know Ecklie was the assiest ass of all bum's asses? It wasn't that she hadn't known before that he was an asshole; it was just that the reality clearly outstripped the fantasy. All that effort gone to waste. She'd even done research, namely talking to T'laren, one of the male students and follower of True Geeklove (nevermind what Doc Robbins had to say) about what he found romantic. She wasn't sure that had helped much, though. He had just spoken a lot about how romantic ogling DNA could be and 'mmm, Norwegian'. Those Greg lusters sure were everywhere.

So Nina had just decided to go with her gut and subject Ecklie to what she found romantic. That had been her third mistake.

"Now, Miss Moore, let's go over this again," Ecklie's voice sounded silky, but she could feel the roar beneath as he leaned across the desk (he'd asked to borrow Miss Cam's office and she'd seemed only too happy to agree). "You attacked me to…"

"I didn't attack you," she muttered and sulked. Men had no taste. Apart from Grissom, who was taste just being, of course.

"You jumped out behind me dressed all in red and pink, declared yourself the cupid of OFUCSI, threw rice on me, started singing... What was it?"

"My self-composed 'Love Be a Butterfly'." 

"Yes, I can believe it was self-composed," Ecklie replied, looking amused for a moment. It quickly faded. "Then you threatened to lock me in a room for a day with the most romantic movies of all times playing until I gave in and ordered Grissom and Sara to hook it up, marry and have heaps and heaps of children and puppies. Have I more or less summed it up, Miss Moore?"

She looked down at her feet. "Yes, Mister Ecklie."

"You are indeed lucky I know what forgiveness is. Brass did offer to teach you just how assault and harassment gets dealt with, but I have decided to be… crueler. You have a week's bug-gathering duty on the body farm. I don't know what Grissom wants with all his creepy crawlies, but as long as you will suffer for it, I could care less. Now get lost, your pink sweater is making my eyes water."

Ecklie knew what forgiveness was all right, Nina realized. He just chose not to believe in it, opting for vengeance instead.

She shuffled out, feeling down for a moment before it occurred to her that maybe bug-gathering duty would be a wonderful chance to capture a thousand butterflies to swarm Sara and Grissom, making them both see the symbolism of their symmetry in each other. (She had to remember that line, too, for her next fanfic. It sounded very deep, though she wasn't quite sure what it meant. But that had never stopped her before.)

Feeling decidedly brightened up, she wandered back towards her room, humming as she went. Sure, not everything was going exactly according to plan, but she had time, she had…

The hallway shook violently, the ground seemed to buck under her feet and a moment later, she found herself face down on the carpet. It smelled very strongly of beer and Komodo (she would never forget the smell of Komodo, especially since she'd had to wash it off her bum) and she grimaced.

It was silent for a while, then doors began to open and students looked out and at each other.

"What was_ that_?"

"Was that an earthquake?"

"What are you doing on the floor, Nina?" Caty asked, peering down. Caty was a nice enough girl, though sadly not a follower of the True Love, just the True Lust as Nina liked to call Catherine/Warrick. But since the ship wasn't directly in the way of GSR, Nina mostly tolerated her. And she felt a little bit of compassion since Caty had been unfortunate enough to misspell Warrick on her enrollment form and thus entered her Lust Object as Warwick. The Komodo had been more than happy to show his appreciation.

"I decided to try out carpet burns," Nina muttered sarcastically, getting up. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Caty muttered, then brightened. "Maybe the shake trapped Catherine and Warrick in a tight, enclosed space and they're playing bunnies!"

"Don't be idiotic," Nina snapped. If anyone was trapped and playing bunnies, it would be Sara and Grissom. "Whatever it was, our class starts fairly soon."

This made everyone temporarily forget about the mysterious shake and instead start speculating on something much more important – who would be the teacher this time? Hot Nick? Hot Greg? Hot Warrick? Kickass/whiny Sara (which adjective used depended somewhat on which ship one belonged to and whether or not she was a threat)? Kickass/bitchy Catherine (the adjective often depended on the ship there too)? Grissom?

A majority was hoping for Grissom, and even threatened to strike if he didn't teach at least one class. (Though of course, how one conducted a strike at a University with forced enrollment, no one was quite sure.) Maybe shouting would do it, or if that failed, whining.

Nina hurriedly gathered her books and followed the crowd. She spotted Theresa in a crowd of GCRers and gave an evil glare which Theresa returned, though with less force. After all, her eyesight hadn't quite recovered from being locked by students in a room with Grissom's _failed_ experiments, though the nurse had assured her that it would. Not cruel enough punishment for the A/C plot gone awry, Nina reckoned. Shirtless old man, shudder! No one should be subjected to that. Well, apart from the GCR people. And possibly the Nick/Sara crowd. And maybe the Catherine/Sara shippers.

And Ecklie. Oh yes, Ecklie.

A sigh of disappointment spread through the crowd and as Nina entered the classroom, she saw why. Miss Cam stood at the teacher's desk, arms crossed, an insincere smile on her lips.

"Sit down, sit down," she ordered and people found their seats fairly fast. Rumors had it Miss Cam didn't much believe in patience, since that only gave students time for more plotting. "Don't worry, I will not be teaching this class. Your teacher will be along in a minute. I am merely here with an announcement."

She paused to let the expected excited and lust-filled muttering die away.

"It can still be Greg!"

"Warrick!"

"Nick!"

"Sara!"

"BRASS!"

This last made almost all the students pause and Feather seemed to sink down in her seat as she realized what she'd said.

Miss Cam smiled. "Don't worry, Miss Feather, Brass will be teaching eventually and I'm sure he won't arrest you for ogling him. Well, not too often, anyway. As I was saying, I have an announcement. The shake you just felt was a Canon-quake drill."

"A Canon-what?"

"A Canon-quake," Miss Cam replied patiently. "Canon is, as you all should know, the facts as established by the show. However, as this is a weekly show, Canon can change on a weekly basis. OFUCSI will then be rocked by a Canon-quake as we adjust to the new facts. These quakes can vary in strength and length, depending on the changes. We thought it sensible to have a test drill for one."

"But isn't the point of a drill to warn us first so we know it's coming?" Nina asked indignantly. Though in the back of her mind, wheels were turning. So Canon could be changed here at OFUCSI. Maybe there was a way to make some fake Canon-quakes…

"Is it?" Miss Cam said brightly. "And you all do what we tell you to do so often, don't you? You're just diligent rule obeyers, the lot of you."

A few of the students looked a bit guilty, though most opted for defiant.

"So when Nick and Greg get together on the show, they'll get together here?" a student asked from the slash crowd. Nina had already had a few run-ins with them and their 'subtext'. She quite preferred smut-text, thank you very much and gimme, gimme now.

"_If_ such a thing occurs then yes, they'll be together here too," Miss Cam replied.

"Sweeeeeeeeeeeet!" the original question asker remarked, and the sentiment was echoed by more than a few of the confident my-ship-will-sail students.

"Anyway, I shall leave you to it and your teacher…" She paused for effect as all students leaned forward, fingers, toes and hairs crossed. "Mister Warrick Brown."

There was a substantial amount of squeeing as the door opened and Warrick walked in, a few komodo dragons trailing him. Miss Cam moved to a corner and leaned against the wall, making no signs to leave, probably in case a few students foolishly tried to jump Warrick even with Komodos there.

"WARRICK!"

"Yes, I know my name," Warrick replied dryly, putting his books down and taking in the class, some looking sour, some more pleased. He wasn't bad, Nina had to admit, shirt slightly unbuttoned, making his eyes look blue this morning. "I shall be your main teacher for 'World of CSI 101'. We'll start by how to spell my name."

He turned to the blackboard, the chalk scraping as he wrote. "That's W-A-R-R-I-C-K. Not Warwick, not Warwich, not Warric, not Wakiki – and I don't even want to know how that misspelling was managed. Last name is B-R-O-W-N, which is so simple I expect several of you have gotten that wrong too.

"This class is an introduction to the World of CSI, dealing with a myriad different topics from name spellings to Las Vegas itself. We will start with the very, very basics today, such as… Yes?"

Theresa had raised her hand, Nina noted sourly and Warrick had apparently noticed and decided to pay attention. Why, was beyond her.

"Can you just very quickly confirm you're flirting with Catherine just to make Grissom jealous? The others won't believe me!"

Warrick just stared for a moment, then shook his head slightly. "For that to make sense I would have to be flirting with her in front of Grissom most of the time and I don't think I am. Moving on… How many of you know what CSI stands for?"

Most students raised their hands, Nina among them (even if she thought it more appropriate to have stood for Crime Scene Indulgence, especially once Grissom and Sara would realize their true, true love).

"I guess I'll lose that bet with Hodges," Warrick muttered, then raised his voice again. "CSI stands for Crime Scene Investigation, which makes our jobs…?"

"Crime scene investigators!" the class chorused.

"Not bad," Warrick admitted, showing a faint smile, which made more than one student swoon. "We're not at good yet, but maybe we'll get there. Yes, we investigate crimes in Las Vegas. That's L-A-S and V-E-G-A-S, by the way. Last thing we need is a komodo named after a gambling city. The Lake Meade komodo is bad enough, always dripping wet. Furthermore, I work under C-O-N-R-A-D E-C-K-L-I-E. Spell it 'Eckley' at your own peril. My fellow CSIs are G-I-L G-R-I-S-S-O-M, C-A-T-H-E-R-I-N-E W-I-L-L-O-W-S, N-I-C-K S-T-O-K-E-S, S-A-R-A S-I-D-L-E and G-R-E-G S-A-N-D-E-R-S."

Nina stuck her tongue out at Greg's name. That Sara-flirting pointy-haired un-Geekloving CSI-wannabe. She didn't much care how his name was spelled, since his true name was O-B-S-T-A-C-L-E.

"I have also worked with S-O-F-I-A C-U-R-T-I-S, though I understand there has been some Canon hiccups about her name. You will deal with this more thoroughly in Canon Contradiction, a class in a later semester, so I will settle for saying Sofia appears to be what is current Canon. Next, we have J-I-M B-R-A-S-S and A-L-B-E-R-T R-O-B-B-I-N-S also in our main cast. Have you all jotted down the spellings? Any misspellings from now on will lead to a night's detention cleaning the komodo quarters." 

Theresa and Nina shuddered in unison, then quickly pretended not to have. There was nothing as embarrassing as being caught sharing something with a rival, after all.

"Just to make sure you've all paid attention, we'll have a test on names now," Warrick went on and the class groaned. "Miss Cam will hand it out, since she seems to think that if I touch students, a sudden epidemic of 'I-will-never-wash-this-arm-again' will break out."

He was lucky he was hot, Nina decided, or she'd quickly label him an ass too. Test on the first day, sheesh! And why wouldn't the whole world be sensible and have attractive people be nice and unattractive people be nasty? It was so much simpler to keep track that way.

Miss Cam started moving among the moaning students, pausing here and there to give the drooling a few thwaps. Nina was careful to keep all her drool to herself. Warrick would probably gleefully fail her if the drool made her answers impossible to read. As she took in the questions, she felt a moment of panic. The names of the lab techs? Catherine's daughter? Catherine's father? (Catherine even _had_ a father?) Important recurring characters frequently used in fanfic? What did it matter if she spelled that Sara-clone-murdering-doctor's name right as long as Grissom and Sara triumphed in the end? (And then it wouldn't much matter if Sidle were spelled right either, since Sara would naturally be Sara Grissom and bear lots of mini-Grissoms.)

"Um, Warrick? You didn't actually tell us all these spellings?" she voiced, feeling people nod around her. 

"That's right, I didn't. The show did." Warrick's smile was broad this time and a few students whimpered from the glorious lust of it all. "You got fifteen minutes starting… Now. And feel free to do badly. I got a bill riding on this with Greg." 

Maybe he was an ass, after all, Nina decided bitterly while she started writing. Though as he turned his back to them and leaned over his desk, she decided it didn't much matter, since… Heeeello, hot ass!

II

Greg was more than little bitter as he counted the money into Warrick's waiting hand. "How did half of them manage to spell Bobby wrong? And Greg Sanders? I was sure those who lust after me would have remembered the s at the end at least."

Warrick merely smiled lazily. He had been an excellent gambler, after all. He knew how to make the odds just a _little_ bit better.

"I guess they were a little bit… shall we say, distracted."


	6. Of Google Groping and Nefarious AV Tech

Chapter Six: Of Google Groping and Nefarious A/V Techs

Author's note: Without the research conducted by authors of good fic, I would have had no idea what the correct spelling for a certain location was, just that the official spelling seems to be quite wrong. Here's to research!

Archie Johnson entered the classroom, carrying his laptop and his fancy wireless mouse that he could wave in the air and make the cursor on a screen move. Never let it be said that Archie didn't like his tech toys. And even luckier for him, OFUCSI was full of them, as Ecklie found no budget too large if it offered the possibility of fanfic not portraying him as a raping, murdering, torturing, brainless obstacle to Twu Wub ever again. Whether or not that was actually possible even with all the combined budgets in the whole world was another matter.

As far as the teaching staff went, Archie was perhaps the happiest of the lot. He knew that his status as an infrequent recurring character on the TV show made him virtually immune to having bad fanfiction written about him. He was quite content in that knowledge.

And now he had the opportunity to teach OFUCSI students how to write better fiction. Maybe after they graduated, one or two of them might write good fanfic about him. He had heard rumors going around the staff that good fanfic actually existed, and he was all too happy to ensure that more of it would be produced. Maybe some of it would even have him cross over to Star Trek or Babylon 5; he had heard rumors of crossovers existing. Oo, or maybe Farscape. After a moment's daydreaming, he went about his task with even higher spirits, because he could certainly live with a trip aboard the _Enterprise_.

As he set up his teaching tools and hooked his laptop to the Internet, he overheard the students whispering about him.

"Who is that?" one asked in all sincerity.

"I think it's that guy who worked at the college, uh, M. Blaze."

Archie smiled a bit as he worked. There was a minor Canon contradiction involved with him; even he wasn't sure if his full name was Archie M. Blaze Johnson or if he had an identical twin named M. Blaze that he'd never met. It sometimes lead to identity crisis at breakfast, since M. Blaze liked butter on his toast and Archie wasn't sure if he did.

After he was finished, he turned around and addressed the class. "Hi, I'm Archie Johnson, and I'll be instructing this class."

A student pouted. "It said GG101 on my schedule, I thought this would be a class all about Grissom."

Shrugging, Archie said, "Sorry, no. It's Groping Google. All about the research and how to use Internet search engines to find what you need."

Many of the students were giving Archie evaluating looks. He wasn't sure what to think of that. Were they trying to figure out his "There are 10 kinds of people in the world: those who understand binary and those that don't" shirt?

"Y'know, he's kinda hot for a total background character."

Another student nodded appreciatively. "Yeah, for a no one, he's definitely sexy."

Archie frowned, a little hurt. "A no one? Well, I guess that's all right, at least you don't write fanfiction about me."

A student in the corner bounced out of her seat. "But we do! You and Greg are perfect for each other!"

"Me...and Greg?" Archie asked, still as stone. He had not expected that. His mind struggled to compute. Greg? G-R-E-G? Nope, wasn't working.

"Yep!" the student chirped, and a few nodded in agreement.

"Greg Sanders?"

Several happy nods answered that question for Archie.

"You guys write slash about me and _Greg_?" Archie was incredulous by this point.

More beaming smiles.

Did he dare ask? Yes, he dared. "D-does anyone write, uh, gen...het...about me?"

"I do!" another student sang out.

Archie was quite flustered and confused by all this. He wasn't sure he wanted to know any more—it might involve a Mary Sue, and he wasn't sure which alternative was better (or worse, depending on one's point of view): having bad fictional sex with Greg or having _anything_ to do with a Mary Sue. He wasn't even willing to find out if maybe it was Sara or Catherine...or better yet, that gorgeous programming geek Serena from a case a few years back. He cleared his throat. "Well then. I guess I'll have to talk to Grissom about better informing the staff." Then he muttered, "And that's two bets I lost to Warrick, damnit." There was an 'unshipped' pool going for the lesser-known staff, and Archie had entered, certain he could win. So had Vartann, but he'd lost fast when a student had squeed the first day about how perfect he was for Sara. O'Riley thought he stood a good chance in the pool.

II

Not all students were in class, however. Not entirely unexpected at a University, but entirely unwise at this one.

Julia and 'nette weren't worried about that just yet, for lo, they had a plan. A devious, sure-fire plan to get into the staff section and throw themselves on Grissom and never let him go. They were both rabid Geeklovers, sure (and unfortunately were roomed far too close to the GCRs and Greg/Sara shippers...it made them ill inside), but above and beyond that they were both Grissom Lusters extraordinare (except when Julia was lusting after Shakespearean tomes...although she would be in heaven if Grissom were holding said Shakespearean tome).

Yes, they had a plan. For indeed, they knew about the key card necessary to gain access to the staff elevator, but they had noticed that the fire escape had no such protection. So they huffed and puffed up the stairs outside, in the heat of the Vegas sun, climbing up to the staff floor.

When they had arrived at this brilliant plan, they had not taken into account how tall OFUCSI actually was. It was one of those casino/hotel mixes, and contained many, many floors. They also forgot to bring sunscreen or water, something their skin and throat liked to complain loudly about at every moment.

But all their sweat and toil would be worth it once they had a chance to pounce Grissom. And maybe even convince him of the truth that was Sara to make it even sweeter.

Finally, they made it to the top floor, both trying not to look down at the far away ground that was more than happy to greet them both. 'nette quietly unlocked the window, and the two stepped inside. Suddenly nervous, for they had heard tales of the Komodo dragons that patrolled the halls, they sneaked around, looking for the most likely place for a Bugman to hide.

"Maybe down this hall?" Julia whispered.

'nette nodded, hearing the strains of classical music that surely indicated the presence of their prey. "Yeah, that sounds right."

So they both closed in on the room with the classical music, both feeling like proud lionesses on the African savannah. Their prey stood no chance. Then, without warning, they heard a voice behind them.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

'nette nearly swooned on the spot. That was Grissom's sweet, sweet seductive voice all right. But how had he come up behind them so quietly?

Julia and 'nette turned to face Grissom in all his glory. Further thoughts of swooning and pouncing and whatnot fled their minds when they saw his companions—two Komodo dragons of very impressive size. They were much bigger in real life than they were in the stories Theresa and Nina had told, if that was possible.

Grissom reached down and scratched the two Komodos' heads. "Students, I'd like you to meet Luminal and Aphis."

"Hi...!" 'nette squeaked. Words were failing her. She was so close to Grissom that she thought she might die of happiness right there, but the fear induced by the Komodos was equally good at taking her words away.

"Luminal, Aphis, meet two of our recalcitrant students." The two Komodos hissed. "Get 'em!"

Proud lionesses no more, now more like mice meeting a hungry cat, Julia and 'nette turned and ran. But Luminal and Aphis were faster. The dragons caught the two frightened students by the ankles and managed to drag them, kicking and screaming, into Miss Cam's office.

Miss Cam looked up at the two dragons with mouths full of struggling student. "Oh, there's an evil dragon, yes, who's an evil dragon?" she cooed at the Komodos. "What have you brought for me today?"

Luminal and Aphis dropped 'nette and Julia at Miss Cam's feet, then sat happily. If giant monitor lizards wagged their tails, they would be wagging furiously.

Miss Cam smiled. "Go on back to Grissom, I'm sure he'll have some treats for you."

With that, the Komodos lumbered out of the room, seeking out their treats and scratches for a job well done, leaving the students at the non-existent mercy of Miss Cam. Mercy was wasted in education, as far as she was concerned and she looked down at the two frightened students with cool disapprovement.

"Ditching class to sneak into the staff section? Tsk, tsk. That won't look good on your record at all, now will it?"

"No, Miss Cam," Julia said very quietly.

"Perhaps we'll overlook this appalling behavior if you two complete over the weekend a five thousand page essay on the evils of playing hooky. With practical examples, please. Then we'll see how Archie feels about students missing class. Up, up!"

'nette and Julia stood, defeated. Before they had a chance to rub their aching ankles and their carpet burns, Miss Cam grabbed them both by the collar and marched them right down to Archie's classroom.

If Julia and 'nette didn't know better, they would have sworn the very laws of reality at OFUCSI were working against them - but that couldn't be, could it?

II

"Okay, class, now that I've got the Internet hooked up, I'll be showing you the basics of using Google and other search engines for research. Every good fanfic will need a little research, after all. So, the first thing we will cover is diseases and health issues!"

The angst writers knitted their brows. Why couldn't they just make up illnesses?

"I know what you're thinking, 'Why can't we just make up illnesses?' Well, you can, but if you want a decent Fatalius Diseasus, why not look up some good symptoms? You might even find out that there's a _real_ disease that will work just as well."

Archie used his magic wand mouse to move the cursor around the screen so he could open up Firefox. "Internet Exploder is of the devil, you know." Then he quickly typed in the address for Google. "OK, here we are. Let's start out with some diseases and conditions we already know my colleagues have..." He typed in 'otosclerosis'. "Yeah, we all know Grissom was going deaf, now that it doesn't matter."

The results came up on the big screen. "Look, about 69,000 records! I'm sure you can find something useful in that. Of course, it takes practice knowing what links to follow. There's also the 'cached' link, right here," he pointed at it with his magic mouse, "which will highlight the word for you so you can find what you need easier in a large document.

"Let's follow this one," Archie said, then clicked a link. "Ah, that's interesting. It's most common in women and pregnancy makes it worse." He looked at the class with a bright smile. "Think there's something Grissom's not telling us?"

Many students giggled at the joke, but what Archie didn't realize was that he'd infected one or two of them with the idea of writing a Grissom mpreg fic. That was just as well, as he hadn't read any mpreg and probably would have run screaming into the night if he had. It was a common reaction; it took the staff three days to find Nick, who had been wandering the streets in a fugue after he found out about being in one. Warrick had to be sedated, while Grissom had gone Zen on them and then promptly locked himself in his office for hours trying to concoct actual brain bleach. Greg had headdesked himself into a concussion. Fortunately for the sanity of the OFUCSI staff, mpreg was a relative rarity in CSI fanfic. So far. Miss Cam had experience from Lord of the Rings and knew all too well how fast a trend could suddenly catch on. Even one that involved men with wombs.

If Grissom ever found out what such an innocent remark had sparked,Archie would rue the day that he tried to make jokes with the student body of OFUCSI. One never knew what they would take out of context...

"Moving on," Archie said, "you'll note that otosclerosis is obviously related to deafness. That would naturally lead to research on American Sign Language." He typed ASL into the browser, netting nearly two million hits. "Link and learn. You'll get more education on languages in later courses, but keep in mind that ASL isn't English and isn't a language you can write a fanfic in, so write it as if you were translating. Good research will tell you that ASL involves more than hand signs, so look it up and see what else you might have to describe if necessary.

"Deafness will also lead to Deaf culture, so do a bit of research into that if you plan on writing much on the subject. Not everyone who is deaf is Deaf, so learn the difference if your fic addresses it!"

Archie then typed 'shaking hand' into Google. "Well, that got us a lot of results we don't want, so we have to use different words. I think you guys can handle looking up burns on your own, most people have a basic enough grasp on the concept not to completely screw it up, but what about shaking hands? Some people like to write that Greg's hands shook for reasons other than fear, so let's see what we can find. Let's try 'tremor'."

He typed, and many different results came up. A student asked, "But, there's so much! And it's all on different subjects!"

"Yeah, that's where your skills in reasoning come in. If you're looking for a medical tremor, you aren't going to click on the links leading to a band's website, right?"

"Well, yeah," the girl said, chagrined. She wasn't used to this whole research thing, so why did Archie act like it was obvious what she should do? Did he think she had time to look up all this when she spent so much time begging for reviews? There was only so much time in a day, after all.

"OK, then. So let's click on this one." Archie picked a site that mentioned doctors in the description. "Whoa, too much information there, let's try a site that's more specific. Google's here to help you find specifics, not dump you on a five gigabyte site with hundreds of thousands of files worth of info to sift through." He pressed back and then clicked on a different link. "OK, this is pretty specific. Technical, but you can glean a lot from this. Do searches on terms you don't understand, and maybe you'll find what you're looking for. Just make sure you're careful with real, possibly disabling medical conditions like deafness and movement disorders. You're likely gonna have readers who know about these things from the inside out, and that's a tough reader to catch if you completely mess it up. And be especially careful with mental illness, learning disorders, or any kind of drug, prescription or not. Research those like your life depended on it if you're going to use them. You might do worse than make a reader laugh at your ignorance; you might seriously offend them."

"But...but...it's fantasy! It's free speech! I can write whatever I want!"

Archie rolled his eyes at this. "Well, sure, you _can_, but you wouldn't be here if you were doing it well. It's always a serious matter pissing off readers with your stupidity. You don't have to research until you're an expert, but enough to write it convincingly. Don't know how Grissom feels with a migraine? Google it! You might find out that he could take a drug that gets rid of them in a half hour, short-circuiting your fic of angst and woe, but...what can I say? You can get around that obstacle with a bit of creativity, can't you? Plus you might learn some actual symptoms that could be used to amp up the angst."

The angst writers brightened at this. They had no idea that actually reading about symptoms could give them good ideas!

Archie smirked a bit. "That's right, angst writers, real research can get you real results. Just keep in mind that if you have someone on a ventilator, they can't talk. Do your research! And for the love of God, if you're going to write character death stories, find good, logical ways for them to die. Some of the diseases I've heard about killing my friends in fanfic aren't actually, you know, _fatal_."

Several students squirmed in their seats. They knew they were guilty, but now they had to look up why.

"Now let's take a look at some conditions that you fluff writers might be interested in." Archie typed in 'pregnancy symptoms'. "Oh, this is a good one. Nearly 4.5 million links chock full of information. With so much, it's a good idea to click on several links to get a nice cross section of info, better chance at getting something reliable. For instance, this site says women can get morning sickness as early as a week in, while this site says it commonly starts after a month, but _could_ begin as early as a week, and sometimes not at all. If you had just stuck with the first site, you wouldn't have had as reliable information.

"There are also two other research tools for you. MapQuest and maps . google . com. They're good for finding street names, locations, distances...say, from Las Vegas to Lake Mead or such. Use other search engines if you want to know about the usual weather or topography for an area. Let's see what they have to say about Sara's birthplace, Tamales Bay." Archie typed the new sites in and then 'tamales bay ca' into the field. "Well, MapQuest can't find it." He went to Google Maps. "Nope, not here either. Hmm. We know it's around San Francisco somewhere...let's make sure I spell that right...Google Maps let you drag the map around with the mouse, so let's look there..." Archie dragged the map around until he spotted something suspicious. "Well, well. It seems a lot of people are wrong. Tamales Bay (which, honestly sounds silly, is it next to Burritos Bay?) doesn't appear to exist, but _Tomales _Bay does. I think someone official spelled something wrong. Oops!"

Oops indeed. Only at OFUCSI, 'Oops' had specific consequences.

Up in the staff section, Gil Grissom, Al Robbins, Sara Sidle, and Miss PA watched on happily as one of the Komodo dragon eggs hatched. Its little dragon face poked out, and Sara, being who the Komodo was connected to and therefore feeling almost like a mother said, "Your name is Tamales Bay!" The parents, Lake Meade and Los Vegas, looked about as proud as a Komodo could, which wasn't much. But they were indeed proud, for their hatchling was like unto royalty, being named for an official CBS goof the way Robbings was, and Robbings was a very big, strong, and excellent leader in the Komodo community.

Back down in the Groping Google class, Archie was shutting down the equipment, just as Miss Cam dragged 'nette and Julia into the room. Archie nodded to Miss Cam, and then said, "I hope you all learned something today. To make sure, I'm going to assign a hundred thousand—"

"PAGES!" the students shrieked in dismay.

"No, hundred thousand _word_ paper on research using Internet tools, on various subjects, but definitely include a section on how _not_ to treat a high fever (you know how many times you've nearly melted someone's brain with blankets?), due next class." There was a very loud and audible sigh of relief. "For my two students who were ditching, that'll be two hundred thousand words."

Julia and 'nette slumped in their seats. Miss Cam left, satisfied.

"Why do you assign words instead of pages?" a student asked.

Archie answered, "You'll have to e-mail the papers to me, and with a word count, you can't write an essay in 1,052 point Courier to fill up the pages fast."

"Oh." That destroyed her plan, anyway, and it had felt so brilliant this morning, too. Maybe it would still work for other classes...

One particularly bold student said, "Hey, you do the A/V, right? You suppose you could be bribed to hack into the staff section security cameras?"

Archie tapped his chin. "Eh, sure. I'll hook the feed into all of the monitors and TVs on campus. But you'll have to write at least ten thousand words on what you see. You can watch it while you do your research paper on research."

The class was gleeful as they exited. So was Archie, but for entirely unrelated reasons.

For indeed, Archie did as he was asked, and he hooked all the monitors and TVs in the entirety of OFUCSI (except in the staff section) to one of the security cameras. He happened to pick the one that showed Ecklie reading a book in the staff sauna.

And his students had to write ten thousand words on the subject. Two shirtless staff members in one week, and this time it was Ecklie. Their anguish was palpable as they watched in horror, unable to escape the grim sight.

Fate was a cruel, shirtless master - even more so when it turned out Ecklie himself read the essays and very few of them were flattering to him. No student could escape his wrath - or his idea of Big Brother: Ecklie Sauna Edition.


	7. Bodies of Evidence and Quaking Changes

Chapter Seven: **Bodies of Evidence and Quaking Changes**

Drip. Drip-drip. Drip. Drip-drip-drip.

Nina woke up to a Komodo slobbering over her and shrieked loudly enough to wake the dead. (Indeed, quite a few corpses at the Body Farm got annoyed enough to demand a raise, claiming Resting In Peace' was a Union requirement.)

"Don't do that," an annoyed voice said and for a moment, she thought it was the Komodo, until she looked further up and saw Miss Cam's face. Ah.

"Mya has sensitive ears," Miss Cam went on, "haven't you, my widdle lizard?"

"Some days I think you care more about those lizards than the students," Nina muttered, trying to edge herself up.

"Nonsense," Miss Cam said sharply. "I care more about them all days. They actually do as told and look adorable doing it."

Nina just groaned. Why was she here, being dribbled on by a Komodo? Where was here, anyway?

She looked up, just as memory hit her. Oh, _bugger_.

Here turned out to be in the basement, where she had been innocently exploring and looking for the service elevator (she just knew there had to be one up to the staff section) and had instead found what made "horrible" seem a poor and inadequate word.

And then the Komodos had found her, and so had the wall just as she was trying to run away.

"You really shouldn't open doors that are marked For staff only. Students, you will regret it!', you know," Miss Cam went on.

"I thought that was a clever way of hiding secret stuff," Nina replied, wiping some Komodo drool off her jumper. She would probably smell all day. Maybe she could convince people Drool by Komodo really was a hot new perfume.

"Clever, when any student seem to do exactly what she (or he) is told not to? Surely not."

"Fine, not. But why do you store... Those things in the basement?"

Miss Cam clicked her tongue. "Where else would we store our glorious teaching tools? I think Grissom will bring a few to his first class, which incidentally, you should shower for. Don't be late. Grissom is just itching to give Body Farm detention to someone."

And that, Nina considered as she got the hell away, was probably the closest to friendly advice that Miss Cam would get.

II

Three showers later and two changes (after all, now that Miss Cam had revealed who was teaching Forensics 101, Nina had a very good reason to look good and thus tried it), Nina found herself for once early to a class and took a front seat, where she could better send mental vibes at Grissom to do Sara on the teacher's desk.

She wasn't the only one there, though. A shameless Greg luster called Lady lapetus had also taken a front seat and was already taking notes. What of, Nina had no idea. Probably juicy daydreams. Or delusions, since she was one of those Greg/Sara shippers. Nina liked the happy little chipmunk - as she liked to call him, though not to his face, since chipmunks still had teeth - as much as the next one, but Sara needed a man and Grissom was all that and lovebunny too.

"What do you think this class will be about?" Lady lapetus asked, looking vaguely bored.

"Forensics. All that filler stuff in-between the Sara-Grissom stares of love," Nina said dismissively, then remembered the bodies in the basement. "Also, possibly how many different gruesome ways a body can be mutilated."

"Lovely."

The rest of the students began to slowly drift in, most looking somewhat reserved, given what past classes had brought. Considering that, Nina decided that maybe she should be a little bit wary after all. There had been certain incidents in the past that would call for caution, after all.

Maybe that was as much as lesson as everything else they were being taught.

There was a loud, loud buzz as Grissom entered, looking such a way thatNina could only classify it as darkly determined.

"This is Forensics 101," he announced without much more introduction. "Causes of death, determining causes of death, collection of evidence, evidence analysis, evidence treatment - everything we really do at work instead of spinning the bottle and playing truth or dare on tax payers' money. To start with, all of you please put on your latex gloves."

"But you don't always wear them on the show!" Adriana protested. "Besides, you look more angsty in just skin."

"That was on the TV show. This is a University," Grissom replied sternly. "Gloves. Now."

"He's so hot when he's dominating," Adriana said dreamily and Nina could only nod. She put her gloves on, wondering if she could think up kinky uses of such gloves and center a fanfic around it. Anything was good enough excuse for smut if the author was only willing, after all.

"And here is Dave with the body," Grissom declared happily, as the door opened. "The body of evidence is often the body as evidence. We will begin there."

"Ew," Nina muttered to herself, recognizing one of the specimens from the basement of ewness.

"Can anyone tell me how we begin to determine how long this man has been dead?"

Kay rose a hand, beaming. "You see if he's a stiffie!"

"You sound like you were taught Forensics by Ecklie," Grissom muttered, but did nod. "Yes. Rigor mortis, a stiffening of the muscles caused by a build-up of lactic acid, occurs after about three hours. This is because the cells can no longer get a supply of oxygen, but continue to Ørespire without it. After about 36 hours, the cells die and decompose and rigor mortis ceases. However, before that, body temprature can be used to determine time of death within the first 24 hours when the temprature drops at a gradual rate."

He paused, noticing a few green faces. "You get used to the smell. Next body please, Dave."

The next body was another 'friend' of Nina's, but an even greater friend of insects, serving as both home and meal. She fought back an urge to barf.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Grissom said with affection. "We spend a lifetime thinking of bugs at the end of the foodchain while we think ourselves at thetop of it, but in the end, they get us."

"Fascinating," Nina echoed. She could think of a few more fitting words. Maybe Sara should dress up as a bug sometime, that would at least get his attention.

"Flies arrive at a corpse at an predictable rate, at least under particular environmental conditions, and are thus an invaluable forensic tool when a body is not discovered within the first stages of decomposition," Grissom went on. "Entomology is your friend."

"I prefer my friends to have two feet and buzz less," Kay groaned, as one particular fly seemed to have left his dead friend for the loveliness of her ear.

"You've hurt its feelings," Grissom said sadly, and if with sarcasm, Nina certainly couldn't detect it.

Grissom was about to call David in with another specimin, but suddenly the entire university rocked as if struck by an earthquake. Students unfamiliar with such events shrieked in dismay, while a few just calmly climbed under their desks.

The temblor was short, and the PA system crackled to life. "Ahem, sorry about that," Archie's voice sounded from the speakers. "Look's like we had a small canonquake. We're trying to track down the source, but it might take a few minutes." The speaker cut out.

"Well," Grissom said, "I think it might be important for us to find out what's changed. Let's go to the one of the auditorums; other students should meet us there."

The students filed out of the classroom after Grissom, and not a few of them nearly lost their breakfasts over the large metal tub Dave was prepairing to wheel in. It smelled hideous and looked worse, and most were happy they wouldn't have to find out what it was just yet.

II

Theresa wasn't sure if she wanted to jump for joy or blow a gasket. She hadn't been scheduled for Grissom's Forensics 101 morning class—she would be taking it in the afternoon—so she had availed herself of the opportunity to scan the Internet for the latest information on how CSI's sixth season was going.

On one hand, there was Warrick out of the picture. Which was good. On the other...well, she didn't even want to _think_ about the other.

She traveled with several other studence to the large auditorium where Ecklie had told the loitering students they should meet, after admonishing them for not working on their assignments (as if that was the purpose of a University, hah!)

As the groups were seated, Theresa noted that her Hated Arch Rival was a little green around the gills. She was curious why, but it didn't seem to have anything to do with The One True Path of Light and Twu Wuv which she was most assuredly not following.

Miss PA stood at the front on the stage and was tapping a microphone. "Don't be alarmed. We've tracked down the source of the canonquake, and it appears to be a mild one. Just a slight aberation, as it were. Archie will explain it for you." She stood out of the way and allowed Archie to approach the mike.

While the rest were mainly focused on Archie, one student happened to look over to the side of the stage, where Warrick was standing. He was holding hands with something...something indistinct. There seemed to be a chalk outline around it, defineing a human shape, but inside was just mist. The student did see a wedding ring on Warrick's hand, but just raised an eyebrow; as a Gil/Nick 'shipper, Warrick's relationships hardly mattered to her. Unless they were with Grissom, of course, and then she'd have to get nasty. All in the name of true man-on-man hotness.

Archie adjusted the mike and said, "Okay, like Miss PA said, it was just a minor canonquake. In fact, it's something that might get explained some time, but since it just sort of happened without notice, it triggered a quake. The CSI Graveyard shift has been reunited. Without an explanation, it contradicts established canon, hence the quake. Anyway, make note of it."

While Archie was speaking, the rest of the OFUCSI staff had made their exits and were swiftly traveling to the staff section. Archie was probably going to hurt them for stranding him, but they wanted out.

They knew what was coming next.

A student blurted out, "I saw that! And Catherine said that Warrick was always a fantasy of hers. Take that GCRs!"

A collective gasp echoed through the room.

The student who had seen Warrick piped up. "And Warrick's _married_ now. I guess that about wraps up the Yo!Bling."

The gasp turned to an outraged roar.

And then chairs started sailing through the air. A full-blown 'ship war had begun. Students shouted, screamed insults at one another, gloated, and generally wreaked havoc in the auditorium.

Archie ducked a flying book and wished he were anywhere else but where he was. He wondered if he could teleport away like a Power Ranger. Crawling under the stage, he cursed fate for making him so sensitive to canonquakes. Then...he formed a plan.

He was staff. He was a teacher. When the students had all successfully landed one another in the university hospital, he would just use the student database to find out what 'ship each student was on and force them to write a million word essay on the virtues of an opposing 'ship. It would be simplicity itself.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be caught in a 'ship war. It gave him all manner of devious ideas.


End file.
